


if it could've been me

by ivnik



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Minor Character Death, Past Sokka/Yue (Avatar), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivnik/pseuds/ivnik
Summary: Aang is a freshman at Ba Sing Se University who befriends siblings Sokka and Katara, kung fu and kickboxing master Toph, and a cat named Momo. The story follows him, his friends and his accidental enemies as they navigate college life, grief, complicated relationships and becoming adults.(Aang, Katara and later Zuko are the main focuses, though other characters are strongly featured. Inspiration drawn from folklore.)
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. part one: fall - chapter one: orientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang meets Katara and decides that maybe starting university isn't too scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, thank you for clicking on my story! i hope you stick around x

Aang’s legs were on fire. There was no other earthly explanation for why they were burning so badly that he winced at their every movement. He could almost feel the flames seeping through his skin and wrapping themselves around his muscles. A loud groan to his left reminded him he wasn’t alone in his suffering. Mustering his remaining strength, he turned to see his friend Sokka practicing some kind of breathing exercise, though Aang was pretty sure he shouldn’t have been huffing so much.

“Sokka,” he croaked. “I don’t think you’re doing that breathing thing right. You're going to pass out.”

Sokka, whose eyes had been screwed shut, opened them to show their clear blue glistening with tears. “Aang, you’re a really cool guy. But I _will_ kill you if you don’t stop talking.”

Aang sat in stunned silence for a moment, both because he couldn’t believe Sokka was almost crying and because a fresh wall of pain had just hit him. Then, he started laughing. It began as a quiet chuckle, but his giggling soon became so strong he was forced to curl up on himself to alleviate the pain in his stomach. Sokka initally stared at him in disbelief but quickly joined in. Their predicament, after all, was ridiculous. After a week of intense soccer practices and workouts, a case of viral pneumonia forced Coach Pakku to take a leave of absence. Assistant Coach Fong stepped in and, due to a seemingly deep-seated inferiority complex, worked the team to the brink of exhaustion. By the end of practice, they were barely able to lift a foot to bat the ball down the length of the indoor field. Sokka wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to see that fake grass ever again and shuddered at the thought of Fong running Monday’s drills.

Their laughter having now subsided, the pair listened to the soft chatter and footsteps of the handful of other students living on Ba Sing Se University’s campus during the summer months. Aang, who was yet to officially begin his freshman year, had basked in the opportunity to train with the famed BSSU Warriors for the time leading up to the inter-collegiate soccer tournament. He’d also used the time to familiarize himself with the campus (and, on a handful of unfortunate occasions, campus security) as well as some of his fellow students. Sokka, a sophomore, had been his first friend and liaison with the rest of the team. Aang appreciated his happy-go-lucky nature, even if it meant enduring an alarming number of corny jokes. Some of his Sokka-approved friends included Haru, Sokka’s roommate from freshman year, and Teo, the team’s unofficial chiropractor and more reliable version of WebMD. 

As Aang began daydreaming about his joint alignment after his upcoming appointment in Teo’s dorm-turned-clinic, Sokka spoke. “You still planning on taking the bus back to your place?” This had become a routine exchange. Sokka would offer a ride home and Aang would refuse, not wanting to bother him. This time, though, his soreness made a convincing argument to be a bit selfish and accept the favour.

“I was,” Aang responded slowly, pushing himself up from the ground and onto his elbows. The sun made him squint to see that Sokka had sat up and was digging through his bag for a snack. His habitual ponytail was littered with grass, forcing Aang to suppress a snort. 

“My dad is out of town for the week, so my sister is coming to grab me,” Sokka gave up his search and shielded his eyes with his hand to see Aang properly. “Do you want a ride? And don’t worry about inconveniencing Katara, she deserves it.” Aang rolled his eyes lightheartedly.

“Actually, I might take you up on that,” he smiled. “Besides, now I can finally meet that sister you keep complaining about.” Sokka recovered from his shock at Aang’s acceptance to beam, and promptly began recounting some grave offence Katara had committed against his gear earlier in the week. Aang pretended he hadn’t heard the story already and feigned an acceptable amount of outrage. Sokka’s erratic storytelling style led the conversation to devolve into a debate about the best flavour of energy drink from the athletics building vending machine, when he suddenly broke off.

“There she is,” he exclaimed. “Katara!” Aang hoisted himself into a proper sitting position to see a silver SUV pull up to the curb. He’d seen the car enough times to know it belonged to Sokka’s father, Hakoda. Aang quickly gathered his things, throwing his signature yellow baseball cap on top of his messy brown hair, and followed Sokka, who had finally noticed the grass in his hair and was frantically swiping it away. For some reason, nervous butterflies had suddenly appeared in his stomach.

Sokka swung the passenger door open, giving his sister some mildly ungrateful greeting before gesturing to his friend. “This is Aang, I’ve mentioned him. Freshman, super talented, worships me. Anyways, we’re giving him a ride home because Fong has some kind of grudge against legs.” Aang clambered into the back seat behind Sokka and made eye contact with Katara through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were similar to Sokka’s in colour and shape but held a different glint. While Sokka’s was playful and mischievous, hers was kind and amused. She broke her gaze to turn around and greet him properly.

“Hi, Aang,” she smiled. Aang could now see her face properly and caught himself blushing. She was pretty. _Really_ pretty. Her skin was tanned and smooth, like Sokka’s, and her face was graced with high cheekbones. The corners of her mouth were quirked up, silently laughing at her brother and lighting up her face with a grin.

Aang remembered to speak. “Hi! You must be Katara. I’m Aang. Wait, you know that. Sorry, I mean–” Katara laughed properly and Aang quickly decided he liked the sound.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she replied. “Where do you live, again?”

The trio spent the car ride in easy conversation, allowing Aang to learn that Katara was a freshman, like him. She was a social studies major and had originally intended on attending college as a competitive swimmer before she tore her rotator cuff in her senior year of high school. Aang admired how her tone remained positive, speaking proudly of her academic achievements. As he began to recognize neighbourhood landmarks, Aang found himself disappointed that their time together was coming to an end.

Emboldened, Aang slung his bag onto his back and produced his phone from his back pocket. “Since you’re one of the first freshman I’ve met, do you mind putting your number in my phone? It might help knowing someone on the first day,” he said, offering it to Katara as they pulled up to his house. She agreed and punched it in before returning it with a grin. “Thanks!”

Aang said his goodbyes, hopped out of the car and waved as it drove away until it rounded a corner and left his sight. A smile played on his lips as he jogged up the stairs onto his front porch, leg pain long since forgotten. He fished his keys out from his bag, which he dropped with a thud as soon as he crossed the threshold of the front door. “Dad,” he called out. “I’m home!” Before Gyatso even had a chance to reply, a massive blur of white fur barrelled into the teenager. “Appa,” Aang cheered.

Aang sat to prevent himself from getting knocked over by Appa jumping up to lick him. Though he was still sweaty from practice, he allowed his dog to slobber on his face. Neither Aang nor Gyatso were exactly sure what kind of dog Appa was, though the latter always maintained there was some kind of Pyrenees and Saint Bernard heritage. Aang never bothered to speculate, just knowing his dog was a happy cloud-looking creature. “I’ll walk you after dinner, buddy,” Aang promised, rising from the floor to see his father.

Upon entering the kitchen, Aang saw Gyatso humming to some decades-old song as he fiddled with the stove. “Hi,” Aang said, suddenly very hungry. He wondered if his growing appetite was solely because of his aggressive soccer training schedule or if Sokka’s influence extended to his stomach size. Gyatso offered his son a quick smile and standard acknowledgment before returning his focus to the seemingly faulty burner. Aang huffed. “My day was great, thank you for asking.”

“Sorry,” Gyatso sighed. “I thought I’d fixed this last week, but I think the burner is still broken. I might have to call someone to come look at it. Oh, and you got something in the mail. I think it’s orientation stuff.” Aang made his way to the dining room table, sifting through the mail to find a letter addressed to him. After grabbing the BSSU-branded envelope, Aang noticed one that had already been opened and was sitting in front of Gyatso’s habitual seat. He picked up the letter and turned back to his father.

“Going on a trip?” Aang asked, holding up the letter. It was from the headmaster of a somewhat remote school Gyatso had once taught at, confirming the details of an upcoming visit. Aang remembered this one in particular, as it was where he had learned to play soccer. Constantly having to move to accommodate his dad’s sporadic job, Aang had used the sport as a way of breaking the ice and making friends.

Gyatso shrugged his shoulders, having abandoned the offending burner. “Well, I only settled down here so you could go to high school. Now that you’re moving out and going to college, I thought I could revisit a couple of old favourite spots,” he explained. Aang opened his mouth to ask a question, but his father held out a hand. “Bumi will look after the house and the dog for me. I think he’s grateful, really. He said something about his apartment being flooded and needing housing close to campus.” Aang’s protest died in his throat. Bumi was a family friend and a professor of archeology at Ba Sing Se University, someone he could trust to look after Appa. “Now, do you want fancy or normal pizza?”

* * *

Mid-August turned to early September and more students began to flood the university’s campus. Katara found herself longing for the quieter days as someone whisked past her on a skateboard, almost knocking her off the sidewalk. She held her schedule in her hands as she traced the paths she would take between buildings come Monday. Already, some patches of grass and parking lots held fond memories, from her and Aang pelting Sokka with water balloons she’d brought when picking them up from a practice (something she had begun volunteering to do) to meeting Jet for the first time.

Jet was her recently established boyfriend whom she’d met when going to a free swim at the university’s pool. While her injury had prevented her from swimming competitively, she still enjoyed going on the weekends recreationally. So too, it seemed, did Jet. He was defiant and a self-enlightened rebel who thought hating "the system" constituted a personality trait. But, Katara admired his passion and appreciated his intelligence, something she found lacking in her home life. It didn’t hurt that she found his mess of black hair and half-smiles incredibly attractive.

Just as she was rounding a corner to find the building that would house her introductory sociology lecture, Katara almost ran into someone. “Sorry,” she apologized instinctively. When she looked up, her eyes were met with golden brown ones glaring down at her. She vaguely recognized the boy’s face, particularly his ponytail and the scar that covered his left eye, though she wasn’t sure where she knew him from. The boy scoffed and gently shoved her out of his way before continuing down the street. Katara brushed down her shirt and readjusted her braid. “Rude,” she muttered.

By the time she’d finished her self-guided tour of the campus, she heard her phone buzz in her bag. She pulled it from its designated side pocket and saw that Aang had sent her a text wondering if she wanted to meet him and Sokka for dinner. Katara was throughly entertained by his overuse of emojis. She turned on her heel and began walking to meet them at a popular noodle takeout restaurant, shooting back a quick response with her order. She shoved the device back into its pouch and took the opportunity to observe her surroundings. Most of the buildings had brutalist-style architecture and were adorned with the green and gold Warrior colours in an attempt to liven up the otherwise overwhelmingly muted landscape. Flyers for last-minute orientation events were plastered on noticeboards and lampposts alike, prompting Katara to reach out and peel one off to read as she continued her stroll. This one in particular listed some of the university’s clubs, including a gardening association and a student-organized martial arts studio. Katara folded the leaflet and placed it in her bag alongside her schedule, mulling over her choice between the animal rights activists and the knitting grandparents as potential new friends.

The takeout the trio bought was good but probably tasted better because they had such a fun time while eating it. Sokka had suggested they make it a picnic in a residential park near Aang’s house and they amused themselves by creating outlandish stories about the other parkgoers. Aang had just finished his imagining of an old man’s scandalous weekend activities and Katara was lying on the grass, hand on her stomach and gaze on the sky. It was beginning to turn purple, with the sparse white clouds taking on a pink hue. Aang followed her line of sight and sighed. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Katara hummed her agreement. “I like coming here for the sunsets. They remind me of the ones I used to see at this school my dad taught at when I was eight. It was way up in the mountains, so there was nothing to block your view.” She turned her head and smiled softly, watching Aang in his quiet moment of remembrance. He didn’t talk much about his past beyond high school and Katara suspected it was because his childhood had been so unusual. In the couple of weeks she’d known him, Katara had managed to learn that Gyatso adopted Aang when he was three and that they travelled frequently as his father was some kind of education consultant. They had never stayed in one place for longer than a year, until Aang turned thirteen and they settled in Ba Sing Se so he could attend high school.

“Do you miss travelling so much?” Katara asked tentatively. She enjoyed hearing about his adventures when he shared them, fascinated by the worldliness he possessed at such a young age.

Aang shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I liked being able to explore, the feeling of the open air. But it was really lonely. At some point, I didn’t bother to make friends because I knew I would leave and they would forget me.” Shaking his head as though trying to dispel his memories of forlornness, Aang then readjusted his hat and stretched back out on the grassy hill. “That’s why I like being here, it's permanent enough for me to meet people like you guys.” He craned his neck to flash her a grin, which she readily returned.

“Yeah, well don’t get too attached,” Sokka said. “I might be too popular to remember you when school is back next week. I’m a man in demand!” Katara didn't try to contain her laughter. She and Aang could hardly acknowledge Sokka when he stood up to leave, saying something about his friend Suki leaving for an exchange and wanting to say goodbye.

As Katara used the heel of her palm to wipe her tears away, she noticed Aang looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “What?” she asked playfully.

Aang scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. Uh,” his eyes shifted. “Do you want to split up the food?" He hesitated. "Actually, on second thought, just take it all back to your house. Sokka will polish it off by tomorrow, anyways.” Katara furrowed her eyebrows for a moment but agreed. They made quick work of sorting through the styrofoam boxes and tossing the empty ones into the trash before walking downhill to the park’s entrance. If their shoulders brushed occasionally, both pretended not to notice.

They passed an elderly couple who were sitting on a bench and reading a magazine and newspaper, respectively. The woman folded down her paper and gave them an delighted look. “Remember when we were like that, eh? Young and shy.” She nudged her husband and winked at Katara, who immediately reddened and prayed that Aang hadn’t overheard. Her eyes darted to her left and she decided his pink cheeks were caused by the lingering heat. After what seemed to be an eternity of awkward silence, they reached the bottom of the hill.

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk home alone?” Aang looked at her with sincere concern that made Katara’s heart melt a little.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you on Monday, right?” Aang nodded, a serious look clouding his face at the thought of classes beginning. Something in Katara’s chest shifted and she felt compelled to lean forward and gently kiss his cheek. “Good,” she smiled and turned to head home, though not before seeing the wild beam that spread on Aang’s face. Katara found herself smiling too, not bothering to address her thoughts of Jet. Instead, she focused on the excitement she felt for the adventures she knew they would share in the coming months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading all the way through! hopefully, you caught the quick zuko appearance and toph reference. i'll be back soon with the next chapter, but in the meantime feel free to drop your thoughts below, constructive feedback is always welcome!


	2. part one: fall - chapter two: cobblestones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang faces one of life's hardest moments. He's glad he doesn't have to do it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for everyone who read last chapter, especially those who left kudos! it means a lot. a warning for this chapter, there is parental death and a brief mention of gun violence. this chapter was difficult to write, so please have some patience while reading it x

It was an October Tuesday when Aang’s world fell apart. He woke up that morning feeling good. The soccer team’s record was on its way to guaranteeing them a spot in the approaching collegiate championship tournament. He found his classes difficult, but Bumi helped him every now and again with his assignments. His father had been travelling since the second week of classes and Aang wasn’t sure where he was now, but knew it had shoddy reception.

He was jogging back to his dorm after taking Appa for his daily walk, part of his arrangement with Bumi while he was housesitting. He was hoping he would have time to get some readings done before meeting Sokka and Haru for a workout but was losing confidence in his time management abilities. Katara had been key in ensuring he and Sokka actually did their work, but even her organization skills couldn’t account for Aang’s supreme talent for procrastination.

His phone began ringing and he saw Bumi was calling. Aang ignored it, as it was usually the professor asking some ridiculous question about Gyatso’s composting instructions or gardening habits. He swiped his key card to access his dorm building and ran up the stairs to the third floor, swinging his door open and tossing his backpack onto his unmade bed. One of the perks of being a student athlete at Ba Sing Se University was the athlete housing. Though it was only guaranteed for the first two years and most moved into the considerably lower quality student housing district for upper years, the single rooms and regularly stocked vending machines were undeniably an advantage. Katara often complained about their preferential treatment but had recently stopped when Sokka began letting her sneak in to use their showers.

Aang had just opened his introductory political studies textbook when he saw Bumi calling again. He huffed, preparing himself for some off-the-wall question and grabbed his phone. Nervousness flooded his stomach as he slid his thumb across the screen to accept the call, and Aang felt a sense of dread overwhelm him. He shook his head vigorously, something he often did when he was uncomfortable, and held it up to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Aang,” Bumi’s voice came from the speaker. “You need to come back to the house.”

Aang sighed. “For the last time Bumi, the compost goes in the green bin right next to the back door.” He’d begun to relax a little, unsure why he’d felt so anxious about the call.

“No, it’s not that,” Bumi sounded worried. “Aang, I think you should come back now. And cancel your plans with Sokka, I don’t think you’ll be meeting him today.”

The tension in his voice was enough to convince Aang he was needed urgently. He’d never heard Bumi sound so serious. He hung up and texted his friend saying he was needed at the house for the night. Sokka gave a nonchalant response, teasing Aang about being embarrassed about not having a six-pack. Aang smirked as he retraced his footsteps from moments ago. He responded by saying Suki had virtually given him some push-up tips and asked if Sokka wanted to lose in a contest for a second time.

Aang let muscle memory lead him into the house. “Bumi, I’m here,” he announced. He heard a reply come from the backyard and weaved his way through the living room to see Bumi sitting on the lawn, legs crossed and petting Appa. The older man turned when he heard the door open and Aang felt his unease return. Bumi had been crying. “Is Appa dying,” Aang blurted out.

Bumi silently shook his head and patted the ground next to the dog. “Sit,” he beckoned. Aang felt like he was going to throw up but made his way onto the grass. He instinctively nestled his fingers in Appa’s fur. “I’m really not sure how to tell you this.” The professor’s weathered green eyes tentatively looked up to meet Aang’s.

“Can you please just tell me,” Aang said quietly. “The anticipation is kind of killing me.” He was gripping Appa’s coat so tight his knuckles were white.

“I got a call right after you left,” Bumi paused. “There was a landslide yesterday near the school your father was visiting, the Kwan Academy. They found him this morning. Aang, I’m so sorry. He got caught in the rockfall and - well, your dad passed away.”

Everything felt nauseatingly quiet. All Aang could think of was how sure he was that he would be sick. He felt his jaw clench and swallowed hard. As if having an out of body experience, he wondered why he wasn’t crying. He could vaguely hear Bumi talking about something but couldn’t make out any of the words. Aang was numb from head to toe, like his heart had stopped pumping and he were frozen in emotionlessness. He couldn't understand what those words meant. The idea that he would never see his father again seemed too abstract for him to process, as though him ignoring Bumi's news would create some loophole in reality allowing Gyatso to walk into the house come Friday.

His throat tightened and he let his arm fall from Appa’s back. “He was supposed to see me play,” Aang muttered. His eyes began to burn and a small part of him felt relieved he was still capable of crying. He was worried he had lost the ability to feel, but now it had begun to build so intensely he thought he might explode.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Bumi say. Aang moved to hug Appa and let his fur absorb his tears. Sobs wracked his body and he felt whines of grief being gutturally ripped from his throat. He gasped every so often for breath, unable to stop crying to get air into his lungs. He thought he might be drowning.

His mind flooded with things Gyatso was meant to be there for. He was supposed to see his son play soccer later that month. Aang could almost picture his proud smile in the stands. He thought of his college graduation and his father in the audience, he thought of being an adult and coming home to meet him as a man, he thought of hearing him saying “I love you”. Aang began to panic. What if he couldn’t remember what that sounded like? What if he forgot Gyatso’s face? He screwed his eyes shut and tried to recall every bit of him he could. He forced himself to picture his father’s face smiling down at him, his hands dotted with marks of aging, his laugh. He tried to remember what it sounded like when his dad said his name.

After seemingly hours, Aang’s crying quieted. It couldn’t have been because his sadness was gone, he still felt it clawing at his heart. He realized it was because he was too dehydrated to cry. He lifted his head from Appa’s shoulder and used the bottom of his shirt to dry his eyes. He looked at Bumi and saw his own exhaustion reflected in his face. “I think I need some water,” Aang said hoarsely. He stood carefully, feeling his legs might betray him at any moment, and offered Bumi his hand.

They made their way to the kitchen. Aang ignored the chair that had gone weeks without being moved and supressed the thought that it would remain empty forever. Numbness set in again as he walked to the cabinet and pulled a glass from the bottom shelf. As he was filling it, he found he’d let the water run for too long and that the cup was overflowing onto his hand. Bumi appeared behind him, shutting off the water and taking the glass. Aang let himself be guided to the living room, water dripping from his hand to make a trail on the hardwood floors, and sat on the couch. He even let Bumi place a blanket around his shoulders, even though it was fairly warm outside. He couldn’t find the energy to care.

Aang wasn’t even sure how he would wake up once he went to sleep.

* * *

Somehow, Aang did awaken in the morning, head pounding. He’d fallen asleep on the couch sometime last night after hours of silently watching some new TV series. He let the blanket fall onto the floor as he stood up and walked to the kitchen. Appa was lying near his water dish and lifted his head when he saw Aang come in. He gave the human some meaningful blink before resting his head back on his paws.

Bumi had left a note on the fridge saying he was making calls in the home office and that he had informed Aang’s teachers of the situation. He invited Aang to take some of the jook he’d put in the fridge. The boy turned his head to see the time blinking above the oven. It was already the afternoon. Aang pulled a face. He was normally an early riser, something he’d picked up from Gyatso.

The mere thought of his father made grief hit Aang like a truck. He put out his hand and gripped the counter to balance himself. He’d forgotten for a moment. He wondered how long that would last.

After deciding to just have some water, Aang grabbed his phone from the breakfast bar where he’d charged it the night before. He had some notifications from the soccer team group chat and twelve texts from Sokka asking him where he was. Aang realized there was a soccer practice that had started an hour ago. He opened their conversation and typed out a message: “My dad died yesterday, sorry. Can you tell Pakku?” He quickly deleted it. _Too blunt_ , he thought. _Maybe break it to him gently, start with something about the weather._

Aang jerked his head up from his screen in surprise. He now understood what Bumi had meant about not knowing how to tell him about Gyatso’s death. He slowly typed a new text: “Hey, Sokka. I’m not going to be coming to today’s practice. I honestly don’t know if I’ll make any for the next few days. I got news that my dad died yesterday. I’m at the house with Bumi and Appa, so at least I’m not alone. Can you tell Pakku? I owe you one.” He pressed the small blue arrow and set his phone back down. He knew Sokka wouldn’t see the message for a while yet. It brought him a strange sense of calm, the ability to contain his grief to a small bubble of three for just a while longer.

He looked down at Appa. The dog was looking at him silently, though not expectantly. Aang let out a puff of air and knelt down in front of him. “Looks like it’s just us, buddy,” he mumbled. Appa licked the side of his face. Aang allowed himself to sit and pet his companion until he felt slightly better.

Bumi entered the kitchen as Aang was rising from the floor. “Did you see my note?” He asked. Aang nodded. His throat felt too dry to speak. “I told your professors, they won’t give you a hard time. I’m figuring out some plans to lay Gyatso to rest. I know it’s quick but,” he broke off to wipe the lower half of his face with his hand. Aang noticed the dark circles under Bumi’s eyes and wondered if his looked as bad. “Do you want to help?”

Initially, Aang was compelled to decline. He thought it would be too difficult to bear, and figured handing it off to Bumi would let him find some quiet time to grieve. Then, he thought of his dad. He’d been alone before he adopted Aang, and they’d spent his whole life as a family of two. If anyone would know how to best honour Gyatso, it would be his son. Aang coughed and looked up from fidgeting with his hands. “I think I would.” Bumi smiled and clasped his shoulder.

“Alright, then. We can talk after you eat something.” He turned to the fridge and began rustling around.

“I’m seventeen,” Aang said abruptly. The colour drained from his face and his headache returned. “I just realized, I’m seventeen. I’m an orphan again.”

Bumi’s face reappeared from inside the fridge. “No, you’re not,” he said firmly. “You know they have laws for these kinds of things, right? I’m your guardian now.” Aang felt fresh tears well in his eyes. He rushed over and enveloped his father’s friend in a hug. Bumi's hand came to rest consolingly on his back. “You’re not alone, Aang. No matter what, you’ll never be alone.”

* * *

It had taken a couple of days for Gyatso’s body to be returned and officially identified. Aang and Bumi agreed he would have wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered. Over a handful days, they made a short list of places they should be spread. Aang insisted on doing it himself, though he knew he would have to wait for the winter break to travel. Though he was reluctant at the thought of returning to school, Bumi knew it would help his emotional state after a second week away. He cited some study about routine helping to alleviate grief, a scholar even in mourning.

Aang had checked his phone a couple of times, flicking through messages from teammates and social media acquaintances with their sympathies or condolences. He didn’t bother responding to most, but he did open the texts from Sokka and Katara. He knew their mother had died after being struck by stray bullets from a convenience store robbery when they were children. From what he could gather, the culprit had never been caught. Their words carried a certain understanding, neither condescending nor pitying. He found it helpful to ask them honest questions about what was normal to feel. Katara had suggested seeing one of the on-campus therapists, though Aang thought he would need some time before being able to bare his soul to a stranger.

It was now Sunday and Bumi had helped Aang organize a remembrance ceremony for his father. It was taking place on the outskirts of Ba Sing Se in a park they had frequented on weekends as an escape from the city. As Bumi pulled into the parking lot near the area they had chosen to host the service, Aang felt the urge to run. He felt claustrophobic in his suit, in the car, in a world without his dad. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and pretend everything was as it had been at the beginning of the week.

They left the parking lot and walked up the tree-dotted hill. It had been one of their favourite spots, providing a great view of the city while lending a sense of distance from the bustle. Aang’s breath caught in his throat when they came to the top. There were three large photos, the one in the centre of Gyatso six months ago while celebrating his sixtieth birthday. His soft smile and the crinkle around his eyes seemed to leap from the canvas and hold Aang’s hand. The flanking images were of Gyatso and Aang shortly after his adoption and of the duo with Appa as a puppy. There was an abundance of fake candles, likely to prevent the grass from catching on fire. A couple dozen white chairs were laid out in neat rows, many already filled. Aang looked at Bumi in surprise. “I don’t understand, I thought you said we wouldn't have time for something like this. Who set it up?”

“That would be us,” a voice came from behind him. Aang turned to see Sokka, wearing a black button down underneath his varsity jacket. His hair was in its usual ponytail, though it was certainly sleeker than normal. “The team didn’t want to overwhelm you or anything by all of us showing up, so we asked Bumi what we could do instead.” He gestured to the memorial. Aang gave him a genuine smile and allowed himself to be hugged.

When Sokka released him, Katara had appeared behind her brother. Aang noticed her long brown hair falling almost to her waist and realized it was the first time he’d seen her without her braid. “Got another hug in you,” she joked, reaching out her arms. Aang stepped into them and felt his heart warm. She held him tightly, as if trying to convey her empathy through her touch. “Hi, Aang,” she whispered.

“Hi, Katara,” he whispered back. As he stepped away to rejoin Bumi, he appreciated how much better he felt knowing he at least had two friends who would support him. Glancing back at the photographs and candles, Aang gave a half-smile. Maybe he had more than two.

The service was short but comforting. Bumi began by addressing everyone and delivering something like a eulogy. A handful of others spoke, some Aang knew well and others he’d only ever seen in fading pictures with a younger Gyatso. Aang finished the ceremony by sharing a couple of lighthearted anecdotes and some words about how lucky they all had been that they had been chosen to share in his father's life. He had meant the prose when he wrote it, but it gained a new depth of meaning when speaking it aloud. It was like he knew his dad had heard his words and he felt the beginnings of a sense of closure.

After shaking some hands and quietly chatting for almost an hour, Aang had begun walking back towards the car when he heard someone call his name. He saw Katara carefully picking her way down the hill. He observed for the first time she was wearing heels. When she caught up to him, she grabbed his shoulder both to steady herself and to force him make eye contact. She was almost his height. “Were you planning on stealing Bumi’s car or are you walking back?”

Aang looked out at the winding paths of city streets laid out in front of him. Though cold winds had made the weather feel more like a November chill, it wasn’t unbearable. “Walking,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I could use the fresh air. I haven’t walked Appa much in the past couple of days.”

Katara nodded. “Do you want me to join you, or would you rather go alone? Or I can grab Sokka.” She peered behind Aang to the top of the hill and saw her brother talking to someone on his phone.

“Won’t you be cold?” Aang asked. Katara dramatically indicated her long, buttoned coat. “Company might be nice, then.”

After Katara sent a quick text to Sokka, they began making their way through the darkening roads. They were quiet, initially. Neither felt the need to fill the silence with empty words, knowing Aang didn’t have the energy for small talk. Instead, they simply enjoyed the evening breeze and being in the presence of another person. They saw the people of Ba Sing Se going about their business. A young family was taking a stroll, a toddler chasing after her sister who was peddling speedily on a tricycle. A middle-aged man was carrying bags of groceries to an apartment complex. A woman jogged past them with her dog in tow, music blaring from her headphones.

Aang broke the silence. “I forget sometimes that other people’s lives are the same,” he spoke faintly. He saw Katara press her lips in thought.

“That used to happen to me too,” she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just couldn’t believe the world kept turning after I lost my mom. It seemed a bit selfish, but I wished everyone would just stop for a minute so I could grieve.”

Aang found himself nodding. “Bumi says I should go back to school next week. I’m not sure if I’ll be ready.” He looked at Katara inquisitively. “What do you think?”

The young woman shrugged. “It took Sokka and me about a week before going back to school, but I faked a concussion so I could get more time by myself. You need to start making a new life at some point,” she said, “but pushing yourself to adhere to someone else’s timeline won’t work for anyone.”

“How did you move on?” Aang couldn’t bring himself to see her reaction when he asked that question. In truth, it had been the one bothering him the most for the past week.

“Oh, Aang,” Katara sighed. “You don’t really move on from something like this. It’s not like you forget it ever happened, or worse, that they were ever in your life. You just learn to live with the sadness, the bittersweet feeling. It’s not a matter of going back to your old life like you’re the same. It’s about putting the pieces back together as best you can while making room for a new one, the piece for your loss.”

Aang’s brows came together and his nose scrunched. “You mean this feeling never goes away?”

Katara shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant,” she paused, considering her words. “Well, I meant your life can still be good, but it will be different. When something good happens, you might wish Gyatso was there to witness it with you. Instead, you just have to make the happiness of the moment itself some way of honouring him.”

Aang realized they were nearing his house. He recognized the park where he had shared picnics with Katara and her brother. “Do you want to sit,” he pointed to one of the benches near the street. Katara seemed grateful and immediately set about taking off her shoes once they sat. “I just worry I’m going to forget him, you know? As if when the sadness leaves, my dad will be gone too. I’m the only one who remembers him this way, as a father. Other people can remember him as a friend or a teacher, but I’m the only one who had him as a dad.”

Katara fiddled with her fingers. “Sometimes I feel like that with my mom. There were just some things we shared that my dad or Sokka wouldn’t understand, and I feel like it’s my duty to pass them on somehow.”

“Like what?” Aang asked, eyes focusing on the moon. Their walk had seen dusk turn to night and the streetlights were their only source of light.

“Her braiding my hair,” Katara replied, her hand absentmindedly drifting to twirl some strands. “She’d tell me stories about my grandmother or her favourite myths while she combed and braided it. It felt like she was infusing my hair with her words.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Aang stood. “We should keep going,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t want Bumi to worry.” He helped Katara stand and couldn’t hide a smile when she winced.

“I’d like to see you wear these for as long as I did without your feet hurting,” Katara dangled her undone shoes in front of him. Aang let himself laugh for the first time in days. Katara hooked her arm through his and they began their descent along the cobblestone path to the park’s other end.

“It hurts less with time,” she said suddenly. “The pain feels less sharp, when I remember she’s not there. I don’t feel so terrible about it. Instead, I’m just thankful I have my father and my brother with me and that I had my mother at all. I’m lucky she loved me, because now I have that imprint on my heart forever.”

Aang felt a sense of reassurance to wash over him. That was something even death couldn’t take away, the influence of Gyatso’s love on his life. Even if Aang returned to his classes, began playing soccer again or even allowed himself to be happy, he wouldn’t lose what was most important.

Their walk slowed to a stop once they recognized Aang’s house as being in front of them. Katara’s hand slid down his arm to join with his hand, and they stood together for several moments. He squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture. “Thank you, Katara,” Aang murmured, before letting go and walking up his porch steps. He turned to look at her as he unlocked the door, but she was already walking toward her own home. She stopped unexpectedly and he saw her hair whirl as she faced him. She gave him a smile before turning back and heading into the night.

Aang slept better that night than he had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is definitely one of the sadder chapters i have planned. this really hit home for me, so thank you for reading it in its entirety. i'll be back with another chapter soon and, as per usual, feel free to leave your thoughts below. constructive feedback is always welcome.


	3. part one: fall - chapter three: daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soccer championship is fast approaching and with it comes an offering of new beginnings for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for tuning in again! sorry for missing the upload last week, school got very busy very fast. i hope you all enjoy this extra long one x

Katara normally hated psychology lectures but this week had been a particular kind of agony. After scooping her notebook into her backpack, she immediately pulled out her phone and hoped she would find something to brighten her mood. She’d given up on turning it off completely before class early in the semester, though it was perpetually on silent mode. She saw Jet had sent her a slew of texts, which she ignored. They had broken up a little more than two weeks prior, shortly after Aang returned to school. After begrudgingly attending some frat party with him, she caught him in the act with a redheaded sorority girl in the bathroom. If she was being honest with herself, Katara was slightly relieved the relationship was over. Something about Jet had never sat right with her, though she was never able to identify it clearly enough for her to feel justified in ending their relationship. Of course, finding him in the midst of cheating wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, but she found her energy more satisfactorily spent getting over him than feeling sorry for herself.

Katara was about to dismiss her notifications when she spotted a text from Aang. “Meet me at the library at 7:00?” it read, followed by an absurd number of bookstack emojis. She smiled and opened their conversation. They had been texting sporadically while Aang was away, their conversations ranging between a few words to essay-length paragraphs. Katara didn’t think anything of the ebb and flow of their periods of contact as she understood Aang’s needs were changing by the day. Admittedly, she was happy he was back and not only for his sake. She’d found herself missing him on more than one occasion, surprised by how often she would type out a message asking to get dinner or study together before catching herself.

She shot back a response: “Why not sooner? I’m done class for the day.” Katara bit her lip, wondering now if she'd come off as being overeager. Before she could let herself spiral with self-doubt, Aang replied. “I have soccer practice until 6:00 and I need to eat. But I’ll see you then?” Katara sent him a thumbs up and stuffed her phone back in her pocket. She finally exited her lecture building and allowed herself to wander slowly back toward her dorm.

The soccer tournament championship was fast approaching and she knew the team was determined to win. Sokka said Aang seemed happy to be back on the pitch, showing a level of seriousness during practices he hadn’t seen before. Though Aang had always had natural talent, he didn’t seem to have the necessary discipline to harness its potential. Katara hadn’t had the chance to see him in action yet as the couple of matches he’d played after his return clashed with her classes. In four days’ time, she would be able to watch their final game of the season. She stifled a laugh as she remembered coming to Aang’s room after their semi-finals win. She hadn’t heard from him or Sokka since the game began and was preparing herself to see them slouched over self-pity takeout. Instead, she found his room packed with half the soccer team, Sokka yelling on the phone to Suki and Aang loudly promising to dye Appa’s fur the school colours if they won the next match. She hoped their good luck would continue, if only so Aang could have that moment of victory.

Katara grunted as she shoved open her door, the hinges sticky from some mysterious incident involving a previous owner. She didn’t want to know the story and sighed at the thought of filing yet another maintenance request to clean it. A couple of times, she’d had to ram it open with her shoulder, which had caused some serious bruises. 

As she was shuffling around her room, cleaning to keep herself occupied until a reasonable time to get dinner from the dining hall, Katara saw a text appear on her laptop. She was surprised to see it was from Haru, a sophomore teammate and friend of Sokka’s. She scanned the message quickly. “Hey, Sokka mentioned what went down with you and Jet,” he’d written. “That’s messed up, I’m sorry. Let me know if you need cheering up.” Katara cocked her head to the side. She couldn’t tell if Haru had meant the message to come across as brotherly or romantic in tone. She decided on the first and responded with a nondescript thank you.

While folding some sweaters, Katara allowed her mind to wander. Haru was certainly handsome and from her numerous interactions with him, she knew he was sweet and caring. He exuded a warm, grounded energy not often found in college-aged boys, which Katara had begun to appreciate. _It wouldn’t hurt to go on a date or two with him_ , she considered. She held her sweater to her chest and tried to imagine sitting across from him in a coffee shop, laughing about something stupid her brother had done. Just as she began to fully immerse herself in the daydream, Haru’s face began to change. It became leaner and sharper, his green eyes turning grey. With a jolt, Katara realized her daydream-self was now gazing fondly at Aang. She squeezed her eyes shut and refocused on her laundry.

Katara knew the risk she ran if she allowed herself to go down that road with Aang. If he didn’t feel the same way or if their romance turned sour, she could lose someone she now considered to be her closest friend. She shoved her clothes into her drawers, organization abandoned so she could flop onto her now empty bed and bury her face a pillow. She let out a loud, frustrated groan but was interrupted by her phone buzzing against her stomach. She peeled herself from the comforter and retrieved her phone from the folds where her body had just been. It was another text from Haru, this time inviting her to go out for coffee before his practice tomorrow. “No pressure,” he’d added.

Katara twisted the end of her braid around her finger. She knew this was coming shortly after her relationship with Jet ended so chaotically, but she couldn’t help but feel it had been doomed from the beginning. Maybe Haru, with his kindness and reliability, would be the change of pace she needed romantically. She felt a nagging sense of betrayal, as if agreeing to the date would be letting someone down. Her mind immediately went to Aang, but she dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. She chided herself for creating these complicated scenarios for herself, she and Aang had a solid friendship and nothing more. Emboldened by her annoyance, Katara responded with a suggestion of her favourite on-campus café.

She heaved herself from her bed and shoved her feet into her shoes, determined that a good swim would clear her head. She grabbed her pre-packed swim bag from the corner of her room and let the door slam behind her. Katara just hoped she could pull off some kind of normalcy when she saw Aang next.

* * *

A grin spread across Aang’s face as his teammates congratulated him for a skillfully placed kick that led to an unbelievable goal late in their practice. Claps on his back and shoulders rained down, their praise equal parts comforting and terrifying. Truthfully, Aang was becoming increasingly nervous about the approaching championship, particularly about him choking and robbing his friends of their win. He also felt that losing the match could indicate a pattern of cruel events the universe had sent to plague him for some grave offense he wasn’t aware of. He wasn’t used to this fatalistic outlook and felt it draining his energy.

As he packed his gear into his university-branded duffle bag, he wondered again about Katara’s therapy recommendation. He had an appointment with a Dr. Roku lined up for the week after the game, someone Bumi had suggested. Aang was also due to go to the local courthouse to settle of final details of Bumi’s guardianship. As the dust settled after Gyatso’s death, Aang was surprised by how many legal affairs he and the professor now had to address. Not for the first time, he was grateful he wasn’t left to his own devices in the aftermath.

Aang slung his bag on one shoulder, using the other to push the door open. The cool air hit him immediately. He shivered and acutely felt the remaining droplets from his shower turn icy on the back of his neck. Despite living in Ba Sing Se for five years, he still underestimated how quickly the weather turned from pleasant fall to bitter winter. He wrapped his coat tighter around his chest and quickened his pace.

He dropped off his soccer bag and grabbed his backpack, which he’d already prepared for his meet-up with Katara. He ducked into the residence’s dining hall, saying a quick hello to his neighbours, On Ji and Jin. He had a couple of classes with On Ji, though he could never remember what sport either of them played. He grabbed some snacks, stashing them in plastic containers Sokka had convinced him to get at the beginning of the year. Although no one was sure if there was an official rule against it, it was generally assumed the staff frowned upon students nabbing food for outside consumption.

His backpack now clunking with the sound of his filled tupperware, Aang jogged through the nearly empty streets of the campus. The sun had already set, so most students were either in evening classes or home for the night. He grabbed his phone out of his jeans pocket and sent a quick text to Katara letting her know he was almost at the library.

As he rounded his last corner, he saw her standing next to the front doors. Her head was bowed as she looked at her phone, the screen lighting up her face to show her smile. She adjusted her braid and typed something quickly . His phone buzzed, but Aang ignored it. He changed his path to avoid her line of sight and quietly crept up behind her. “Boo,” he said loudly.

Katara jumped out of her skin. “Aang,” she yelled, narrowly missing him with an aggressive swat. He doubled over in laughter. “Not cool,” she whined. 

“Sorry,” Aang got out between laughs. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Katara rolled her eyes and jerked open the library door. “Asshole,” she called over her shoulder. Aang smirked and followed her, welcoming the rush of heat.

Their study sessions followed a predictable rhythm. Katara would begin her work, encouraging Aang to do the same. He would oblige for about ten minutes before finding something vaguely interesting to bring up. They would strike up a conversation, but Katara would inevitably realize they were going off-topic and return to her studying. Aang would try to work some more, but would often fall down some internet rabbit hole and find something new to discuss, the cycle of distraction beginning anew.

After a couple of hours, Katara had completely abandoned her international relations textbook and was instead watching a video compilation of BSSU party fails over Aang’s shoulder. A video of a drunk student accidentally jumping into a doorframe sent them into a massive giggle fit. Aang’s head was thrown back in laughter and Katara was clutching his shoulder as she crouched next to the chair. A student librarian appeared from the bookshelves, chastising them for the noise with a forceful _shh_. Katara tried to offer a strained apology, her stomach aching.

She slowly stood up and returned to her seat, sending Aang a glare when she realized how little she'd accomplished. “What,” he asked, widening his eyes to feign innocence.

“You do this every time, is what,” Katara huffed. “You’re worse than Sokka.” Aang offered her a sheepish half-smile and she felt her anger melt away. “I don’t think we’re getting anything more done tonight. Want to head back?” Aang agreed and they quickly gathered their things. They walked back toward Katara’s dorm side-by-side.

He mentioned his appointment with the therapist, and Katara smiled softly and touched his arm. “Good for you,” she said. “I promise, you'll feel better.”

A few moments of silence passed and Katara audibly inhaled. “I’m seeing Haru tomorrow, to get coffee. I’m pretty sure it’s meant to be a date.”

Aang ignored the way his blood rushed to his cheeks. “Nice,” he offered, pushing his hair back from his forehead. He looked down at Katara, who raised an eyebrow. “Haru’s cool, you’ll have fun. Let me know how it goes,” he elaborated. She hummed, seemingly satisfied with his interest level. “Have you talked to Jet recently?”

“He texted me again today,” she sighed. She kept her eyes fixed on the stoplights a couple blocks ahead of them. “I haven’t replied or anything. I’m just tired of it.”

Aang huffed. “I don’t blame you,” he replied, then paused. “Is it really bothering you that much?”

Katara shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just annoying, he’s using up my monthly text allowance.”

She stopped in her tracks, causing Aang to bump into her. He hadn’t realized they were walking so close together. “I’m going to block him,” she announced and retrieved her phone. She looked to Aang for confirmation as she pulled up his contact information. He gave her a serious look and a thumbs up. Katara snorted and hit the appropriate buttons, letting out a sigh of relief when she confirmed the request.

Aang threw his arm around her shoulders. “Welcome to the beginning of a Jet-free life,” he gestured to the darkening campus, trying to lighten the mood. “The world’s your oyster.” Katara grinned in amusement and they finished their walk to a soundtrack of insults aimed her ex-boyfriend.

* * *

Katara watched with bated breath and the lower half of her face buried in one of her hands as the last quarter of the championship game began. The Warriors were tied with the Dragons, Ba Sing Se University’s long-time sports rival. She couldn’t help but feel proud of the team. Her brother was a more skilled player than she remembered, and she noticed a marked improvement in Haru’s goaltending abilities. But the real star of the game was Aang. He was focused and light on his feet, his movements anticipating those of his opponents. He made the sport look graceful, weaving through the other players across the field with an ease Katara had never seen before.

Katara’s left hand held her phone, her elbow resting on her knee. She was on a video call with Suki. Katara wasn’t sure if the third year and her brother were officially dating, but they were something close to it. Her time zone was four hours ahead of Ba Sing Se’s, so it was already the early hours of the morning for her.

“It’s starting,” Katara said, calling Suki’s attention to her screen. Both girls let out the occasional _ohmygod_ or string of cuss words as they watched on, the advantage seemingly passing between the teams every thirty seconds.

The game entered its last two minutes and both schools became desperate to break the tie. Sokka was dribbling the ball down the pitch and sharply kicked it to his left. Aang nudged it forward, just out of the reach of a Dragon player who’d tried to intercept the pass. As they approached the opposing team’s net, Katara found herself muttering encouragements under her breath. “Come on, Aang,” she said quietly. “You can do this.”

Aang dodged a Dragon defender and kicked the ball hard toward the net. Katara held her breath as she watched the goalie dive for the ball and narrowly miss, then as it zipped into the inside corner of the goal. She gasped and sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Yes, Aang,” she shouted. He was being lifted up by Sokka but whipped his around when he heard her call his name. He gave her a wild grin and waved. She stood up and waved back enthusiastically. The Warriors rallied around him, adding their own cheers to the roars of approval from the crowd.

As the game resumed, Katara sat down, now completely breathless. There was less than a minute left and she could feel the buzz of excitement in the stands. Even Suki, pixelated as she was, was enthralled. Neither of them seemed to breathe as time slowly ran out. Finally, the referee blew his whistle and the match ended.

Katara immediately screamed and threw her hands in the air. She watched as the boys collided in celebration and looked behind her to see the crowd members cheering, jeering and chanting. Popcorn rained down, though in protest or revelry, she wasn't sure. Sokka ran across the field and hopped over the barrier to give her a bear hug. He swung her around so forcefully she almost dropped her phone. He unceremoniously plunked her back down on the cement and Katara presented her brother with the video call. “Suki,” he cheered, grabbing his sister’s phone and talking excitedly.

She turned back to the field only to be enveloped in another hug. She laughed and leaned back to see Aang’s gleeful face. “Hi Aang,” she smiled. He smirked and pulled her in again. She could feel him buzzing with happiness and relief. They embraced for a while, his heartbeat slowing and muscles relaxing beneath Katara’s fingertips. When he finally stepped back, there were tears in his eyes. Katara didn't need to ask why. “Gyatso would be proud of you,” she assured him, giving his arm a squeeze.

Aang closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah,” he let out a hiss of air. “I think he would be.” He gave her a watery smile and wiped his face with the bottom of his jersey.

A holler came from the entrance to the locker rooms. Haru was beckoning Aang and Sokka, unsuccessfully hiding a cooler of an alarmingly orange liquid he likely intended to dump on them. “Go,” Katara gave Aang a gentle shove. “Text me when you’re ready to leave.” He gave her a mock salute and made his way across the field. Sokka passed her phone back to her and she watched the boys be subjected to being drenched by the cooler contents before retreating into the tunnel.

Katara chatted with Suki over an iced coffee at a table in the stadium lobby until she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Aang, who was peering over her shoulder to wave at Suki. “Hey dude,” he greeted her. He plopped his chin on top of Katara’s head to stay in the frame.

“Congrats, Aang,” she waved. She tried to hide a yawn, and Katara remembered the time difference.

“Thanks,” Aang replied with a smile. “Listen, we’re heading to a house party now, but I’m sure Sokka will call you later.”

Suki seemed relieved to have a reason to end the call. “I’m counting on it. Have a fun night, you two.” She flashed a quick grin and ended the call.

Katara promptly batted at Aang’s face. “You’re dripping on me,” she accused. He shook his wet hair down on her, much to her chagrin. She shoved him away. “So, whose party?”

Aang laughed. “Shoji’s, his parents are gone for the weekend,” he grabbed both of Katara's hands and tried to pull her up. “Let’s go,” he drew out the word, his impatience and gaiety clear. Katara relented and let herself be pulled up out of her chair.

“I’m bringing my coffee with me,” she said, snatching her cup before Aang dragged her to where Sokka was waiting by the door. He jangled his keys in front of his sister.

“Want to drive,” he wiggled his eyebrows. Katara rolled her eyes and let him drop them in her hand.

“Only for tonight,” she gave Sokka a pointed look. He grinned and opened the door.

“Ladies first,” he gestured to the parking lot.

The boys insisted Katara stop at a fast food chain before heading to the party, so it was in full swing by the time they arrived. Sokka split off almost immediately in search of beer. He offered to get some for Aang, who looked nearly sick at the thought of it. Katara stood next to him for a while, greeting victorious players as they came to see their resident hero.

She eventually wandered into the kitchen, where she found Haru flicking through his phone. “Hey,” she called out. He looked up, his long hair brushing the tops of his shoulders.

“Hey,” he responded, holding out his arms. Katara stepped into them and hugged him. He was slightly too tall for her to comfortably rest her chin on his shoulder, so she turned her head to rest against his chest.

He walked to the fridge and opened the door to show it each shelf packed with canned drinks. “Want me to grab you one?” he asked.

Katara fished Sokka's keys from her front pocket. “Designated driver,” she pulled a face. Haru nodded understandingly and pivoted to her upcoming sociology paper. They continued to exchange academia horror stories until he was pulled away by Sokka to play some drinking game. She followed them out and became the referee for a game of flip cup, calling out the players, namely her brother, when they cheated. Despite being one of a handful of sober people in a very crowded house, Katara was enjoying herself. The music was good, recognizable but not overplayed, and everyone was in high spirits.

After nearly an hour of watching other people drink, she retreated to the kitchen to get some water. She could feel the effects of her coffee wearing off and sat on the counter to give her aching feet a break, sipping her water and unbraiding her hair absentmindedly. Aang appeared in the doorway, his confused look indicating he'd ended up in the wrong room. He had a red solo cup in his hand, though it was mostly empty. “Howdy,” he blinked at her in surprise. Katara suppressed a chuckle and hopped down from her perch.

“Found a drink, huh?” She flicked the cup. Aang took a second before looking down.

“Shoji made it,” he held it up to her, encouraging her to inspect it. She looked inside and was slightly concerned by the dark colour. “He also told me a secret.” Aang leaned in close enough for Katara to smell his cologne. “He told me how to get up on the roof.” He brought himself upright again and tapped his temple, as if showing her where he’d stored such coveted information.

“You’re not planning on going up there by yourself, are you?” Katara furrowed her brows. Even if he'd been sober, she didn't think roofs and athletes were a good combination.

Aang shrugged. “Well, I was. Want to come as a chaperone?”

Katara sighed. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope,” Aang shook his head and turned on his heel. He marched with determination through the living room, where he swerved through the mass of partiers effortlessly. Katara followed in his path across the floor and up the stairs, when he stopped to whisper the directions to himself. He grabbed Katara’s wrist and pulled her through a hallway. He spun quickly to face her, his open button down brushing her outstretched arm. “Hold,” he extended his drink.

Immediately after Katara took the cup, he turned around again and opened the door to his right. It swung to reveal a spare bedroom, clearly untouched for months. Aang walked confidently to the window and tugged it open with a grunt. He then hauled one leg over the ledge and ducked under the window. He crouched halfway on the roof for a moment, looking upward. He reached and grabbed hold of something before disappearing from Katara’s sight.

Her eyes widened and she dashed across the room to stick her head out of the window. She saw Aang perched on the apex of the roof and realized he’d used a rung someone had installed on the chimney to haul himself up. “Aang, get down,” she said exasperatedly, deeply regretting her decision to come with him. “You’ll fall.”

Aang wrapped one arm around the chimney and held out the other to her. “Come up,” he beckoned her with his open hand. “Don’t be scared.” Katara pressed her lips together. After a beat, she placed Aang’s cup on a nightstand covered in a thin layer of dust and mimicked his climb out of the window, grabbing his forearm and letting him lift her toward the metal bar.

Once she'd grabbed hold of it, he let go and shifted over, allowing her to grasp the rung with both hands and swing her legs to safely straddle the roof. She then brought her legs to the same side and found herself staring out at the rooftops of one of the city’s more affluent neighbourhoods. “No wonder Shoji hauls himself up here,” she breathed out.

The houses were old and beautiful, with warm yellow light spilling out of their windows to create constellations across the landscape. The splendour was even able to let Katara ignore how icy the wind was, though her cheeks and ears still flushed from the cold. She and Aang sat in silence, staring out at the residential expanse in awe.

“I wish I just knew what he would’ve said,” Aang said suddenly. “When we won, I mean. I just want to know the words he would’ve said.”

Katara exhaled hard through her nose, still transfixed by the lights. “I know the feeling.”

“Do you think Sokka feels like this?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Katara replied honestly, swinging her legs. “We don’t really talk about that anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t mean to bring it up so much.”

Katara gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. It’s actually kind of nice to have someone to talk to who isn’t my brother. Makes it less lonely.”

Aang cleared his throat and changed the subject, obviously uncomfortable with his choice of conversation topic. “How did your date with Haru go?”

She bit her lip, intrigued by his interest and contemplating her response. “It was fun,” she said slowly. “He’s _very_ different from Jet, which I guess is a good thing. It was just one date, though.” She raked a hand through her hair and turned to face Aang, resting her cheek against her shoulder. He was looking at her intensely. Katara’s eyes flickered down to his lips before meeting his eyes again. “What are you thinking?”

Aang shifted closer and looked at her again, almost asking if it that was allowed. Katara swallowed hard and felt herself inching closer to him, drawn by a magnetic force she'd felt since she saw him sitting in the backseat of her car. His hand came up to her cheek and she leaned toward him, stopping just short of their lips touching. Both of them hesitated for a moment, considering everything that could go wrong. Katara closed the gap.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting a kiss with Aang to feel like. But suddenly she felt the cold around her disappear and the starlike lights fade away. There was something that felt right about the way they fit together and when they broke apart, she missed it.

Her eyes met his and they basked in the knowledge that a boundary had been crossed, that their relationship now stood at some point of no return. As Katara opened her mouth to speak, something moved in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw two police cars approaching in the distance. She realized for the first time how loud the party was in comparison to the rest of the neighbourhood. She cursed and jerked her head toward them so Aang noticed.

“We should warn them,” he sighed. Katara nodded and they moved as quickly as they could back through the window. They ran down the hallway and the stairs, Aang taking them two at a time. By the time she reached the landing, he was already talking urgently with Sokka and Shoji. Katara walked over to the living room speakers and pulled the plug. A cry of annoyance rose up from the partygoers, which Sokka soon yelled over.

“Cops are on their way to shut this down, everyone out,” he announced. A collective groaned echoed throughout the house, to which Sokka replied. “I know, but let's get a move on, party people.” The crowd obligingly shuffled onto the surrounding streets and toward nearby cars and intersections, many dispersing to use their phones for ridesharing services.

Haru jogged up to Katara and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, the same one Aang had caressed minutes ago. “Drive safe,” he smiled, before joining some friends who were calling a taxi to go to another party in the student district. Katara waved half-heartedly at his receding figure.

Sokka swung his hand urgently in front of her face. “Earth to Katara,” he said sarcastically. “Let’s bounce!”

Somehow, her brother had managed to find a drink for both himself and Aang for the ride home, and whatever sense of sobriety the adrenaline had conjured up quickly dissipated. When they reached the boys’ dorm building, they were loudly and futilely attempting to recite some Warriors chant the crowd had started at the match. Katara parked the car in the lot and walked with them to the doors of their building, but it was clear Sokka was able to keep Aang steady as they made their way to the lobby. She watched from the outside as they got into the elevator and made her way back to her own room once she was satisfied they wouldn't pass out on the tile flooring.

As she walked slowly through the campus streets, Katara realized it was daybreak. She closed her eyes as the first rays of sun warmed her face, almost in disbelief at all that had happened in one day. Her mind swirled with thoughts of Aang and Haru, more questions than answers. She breathed deeply and peered through narrowed eyes at the sunrise, wondering what this new day would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading this the whole way through. the next chapter will be the last of part one and we'll get to finally see toph and zuko (and some others). i haven't forgotten about any zutara shippers! as always, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comment section. constructive feedback is very welcome.


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